And It Didn't Read Like Stereo Instructions
by Mistoffeleesgirl892
Summary: Betelgeuse finds a loophole out of the Neitherworld in his Waiting Room processing papers. Hell bent on revenge AND keeping his deal with Lydia, the Juice lets loose and plots his way back to the land of the living. His plans take time, though, and in the meantime, he doesn't notice things changing between him and a certain gothic girl. Then things get even more complicated
1. Chapter 1

IN The Land of the Living…

Lydia Deetz was strange and unusual. That much usually went without saying. Unfortunately, the inhabitants of the sleepy little town of Peaceful Pines couldn't seem to remind her of it often enough. It wasn't bad enough that she'd just recently gotten over the worst trauma in her life, practically lost her two best friends, and had to suffer through another move, to an even more boring town than Winter River had been.

She missed the Maitlands. Sure, she could still make it over to the house on a good day for about an hour or so, but it wasn't the same. Her father still owned the house, but he'd been planning on selling it-the equity wasn't enough to account holding onto it much longer. He and Delia were both set on starting over and consciously forcing themselves into forgetting the whole Betelgeuse experience, and while they knew Lydia could see, hear, and speak with the resident haunting couple at their old house, they were trying to ignore it.

Lydia was utterly miserable. Delia had turned the new house into an identical monstrosity to what she'd done to Adam and Barbara's place, Lydia had been enrolled at a uniform-mandatory all girls junior high, and despite Barbara and a sandworm's best efforts, found herself engaged to a poltergeist.

Not married, mind you, but engaged. A wizened old matron of a ghost with a chain smoking habit and a slit in her throat named Juno had popped into the house shortly after the marriage fiasco to inform her that since he'd gotten that ring on her finger, but she hadn't said the words, the situation equated an engagement, to be held indefinitely…or at least until the paperwork could be set through to nullify the deal. Which could take about sixty years for the living, so as good as forever.

Fourteen years old and engaged to a pervy psychotic poltergeist. She should have just jumped off the bridge when she'd had the chance.

Neitherworld, The Waiting Room…

Betelgeuse sat, humming boredly and trying to mentally convince the flies buzzing around the fluorescent lights to aim for his mouth. In his hands was a wad of official looking papers, crumpled in anger but left unread. Juno had handed them to him personally days or month or so ago, her eyes flashing with anger as she refused to explain. The poltergeist, giving up on the flies (for now) grudgingly decided to finally read them. He did have to admit though, it was a far sight easier to do so with the eyes in his head (and whole head, actually) back to it's normal size. That had been a real pain in the ass correcting, and as soon as he met that damned witch doctor again he was going to show him the business in the most terrifying way he could cough out of his demented, decayed brain.

Leaving off thoughts of the harassing headshrinker, Betelgeuse smoothed out the papers and began to read. The majority of it was charges that would be brought against him once he got out of the damned Waiting Room…5 counts of terrorizing the living, 1 count attempted homicide, 3 counts kidnapping, 2 counts accessory to illegal exorcism, 1 count engaging in a forced mortal/dead marriage…the usual blah-de-blah legality shit. His eyes stopped at a paragraph entitled "Potential for Stoppage of Charges and Advancement of Agreements Giving for the Occasion of Extenuating (And Potentially Impossible) Circumstances."

After chewing on that title for a few minutes, Betelgeuse picked his way through the paragraphs carefully, looking for loopholes.

1.) In which, seeing as the accused (one Betelgeuse, +600 deceased) entered into a willing contract with the accuser (one Lydia Deetz, Living) pertaining to the marriage of the two aforementioned individuals, upon the rescue of two then imperiled entities ( Barbara and Adam Maitland, recently deceased) and in seeing that the contract was not fulfilled by reason of

A.) Bridal refusal, leading to B.

B.) Witness intervention, leading to C. and D.

C.) Ceremony interruption, leading to ring received by bride but vows unstated.

D.) Sandworm attack, leading to re-death of accused

Accused, having completed their part in the original bargain, is entitled to half of the privileges sought, namely "wanting out", due to partial ceremony equating to ENGAGEMENT in Neitherworld law, under CONDITONS OF/ TO BE FILLED:

1.) Summoning by fiancé/family member in duress.

2.) Prevention of harm to living fiancé/family.

3.) Yearly conjugal visits, once fiancé of appropriate mortal age and/or marriage completed.

4.) Formal apology rendered to and accepted by fiancé/family, Maitland party, with witnesses, mediated through accused party's case worker (Juno.)

5.) Untimely death of fiancé, dissolving engagement and nullifying her part of the contract.

6.) Timely death of fiancé.

7.) Waiting Room sentence of 382 years completed with good behavior.

Betelgeuse looked over each option carefully, weighing each one as he fished a pencil stub from out the back of his wild hair.

Well, he knew numbers One and Two weren't going to happen in a million years. Lydia (huh, so that was her name. And here he'd been cursing 'Linda.') was in no universe ever going to summon him again. Neither were her family, if they could even remember his name. And the Deetzes were not the type of family someone cased for a robbery or anything else mildly terrifying enough to quantify him showing up to save the day.

Number Three was interesting…but that little girl had been…well, a little girl. Betelgeuse was a world class perv, and proud of it, thank you very much, ladies and germs, but he DID NOT do that whole Lolita thing. He'd actually bumped off a few ghouls who did and had slipped past Hell's radar. Blame it on his dear, departed, passed on little sister.

Not to mention, that once she was of age…he doubted she'd be anymore sweet on him than she was when that Maitland bitch had fed him to the sandworm, which was somewhere between "Oh FUCK no!" and "not in this or any other universe, bub."

Five and Six were entirely out of the question. He'd been here six months, and was so mind obliteratingly bored he was almost ready to dive headfirst into Saturn…almost…if he wouldn't have ended up right back where he'd started. So cross off waiting for wifey to kick the bucket, late or early.

That also left out number Seven. Fuck to the N.O. for three hundred-eighty-fucking-two years in the Waiting Room.

So that left him with number Four. An apology. Betelgeuse couldn't remember the last time he'd apologized, even insincerely, to anyone. He had the niggling suspicion he never had. And if it were facilitated by that bitch Juno, he damn well knew it'd have to be at least an attempt at sincere. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckettyfuckfuckfuck erooski. The Ghost with the Most stood, steeling himself for battle, dusted of his moldy maroon tux, juiced it back to his trademark pinstripes-gone-wild, slicked back his hair, sort of, blew right past Miss oh-how-I-regret-my-little-accident-Argentina's door, dodged away from that flat fucker Ferndoch, and knocked on Juno's door.

Juno was not thrilled. She was not even slightly amused. She was, in fact, half a millisecond away from calling an exorcist herself just to get the moldy bastard out of her office. She'd known he'd stop fuming and start plotting eventually…she'd just hoped he'd wait until the century switched over. No such luck. And now she had him stinking up her office, looking for all the world like a triumphant zebra with a mange issue. She should have known that stupid stunt Argentina had pulled with a number in the trillions wouldn't have kept him back forever.

"B, I am not, in any way, shape, or form, going to facilitate some farce of an 'I'm sorry' between you and those families. Keeping in mind the fact that the Deetzes have moved and trying with varying levels of success to forget this fiasco, the fact that the Maitlands will try to kill your stinking undead hide, _again_, and that I detest you, what makes you think I'd do this?"

Betelgeuse grinned, pulling an ancient parchment from his pockets and shoving it in her face. "1.) You're my case worker, which leads to, 2.) You're contractually obligated to, and 3.) You OWE me."

Juno winced. That moment of weakness had been hanging over her head for centuries. And now…the other shoe had dropped. Literally. Betelgeuse had made himself at home and his boots were now dripping mud and god knew what else all over her desk.

"Fine, you got me. Barrel, over, I get it." Juno growled, smoke pouring out of her throat. Betelgeuse grinned. "But," ah, there was the wince on his ugly face, "if I get even a whiff of insincerity in your voice, I'm throwing you to the sandworms so quick it'll make you're family's head's spin! You read the rest of the contract, I assume?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, "powers henceforth limited and/or hindered by verbal inconsistencies from self and fiancé until time of Marital Completion (unless Wife deems otherwise), Fiancé Death, or Mutual Breakage of Aforementioned Contract." Whatever the fuck that means. Bring it on, y'old bag. The Geuse is ready for whatever muck you're gonna sling at 'im."

Juno sighed before rummaging in her desk for a giant Sharpie. "Fine," she wheezed, sounding tired. "I'll facilitate the damned apology. Just don't blame me if Barbara Maitland goes bareback sandworm riding again."

The old caseworker turned about in her chair and stood to drat a thin, wonky door on her back wall, scribbling the Maitland's address neatly across it. She opened the doorand walked through, leaving it open for the poltergeist to follow.

"What, not even gonna let me think about what to say?"

"Move your fat ass, B. I am not taking all day."

Grumbling, Betelgeuse shuffled through the door. Leave it to Juno to put a rush on things after all that fucking waiting. Bitch.


	2. Chapter 2

IN the Land of the Living…Kinda

Barbara sat gazing out the attic window. She'd been doing that a lot lately. When you didn't need to eat or sleep or attempt to terrify unwanted yuppie tenants, there really wasn't much to being dead. Adam had taken to scrounging around the house, using what little manifestation powers he had to work on his model, bit by bit. Barbara had tried helping him, she really had, but to be fair, it was that damn model and an unfortunate run in with a dog that had gotten them in this fix in the first place.

So she sat by the window, looking out into a world she couldn't interact with anymore for fear of being eaten by one of those damn sandworms. If it weren't for the fact that it'd almost wound up in their exorcism, she'd wish for the Deetzes back…or at least Lydia. But Lydia was just a little girl, just turned fourteen, and couldn't live in a haunted house by herself, no matter how much Barbara knew she'd enjoy it.

Adam cast a sideways glance at his wife. The first few months of their afterlife had been so hectic they hadn't really had time to adjust to the whole actually 'being dead' thing. What with the confusion, the Deetzes, and that fiasco with a poltergeist that would remain unnamed even in his head, death had almost seemed…if not fun, at the very least exciting.

But then The Fiasco had ended, and then the Deetzes moved the next town over six months later and the house had been quiet and empty again, made all the worse by the fact that they couldn't leave. The only bright spot in their afterlife anymore were the visits Lydia was able to manage. But even those would have to stop eventually. Whenever Charles sold the house, well, she couldn't just say she was sneaking in to see her dead friends, now could she?

Neither of them noticed the green light, wrapped up in their thoughts as they were. Barbara turned around at the smell of cigarette smoke, however.

And promptly shrieked bloody murder.

Adam nearly jumped out of his skin as he whirled around to see what had scared his wife. There, at the far corner of the attic, awash in sickly green light and surrounded by a foul smelling cloud of ash and tar, stood their caseworker, the look on her face so cross it could have broken glass. Beside her, the subject of her glare stood swearing and shaking something clingy, gelatinous, and vomit colored from his boot, his back turned halfway to them.

The Maitlands couldn't see his face, but they knew that crazy death-blond hair and those overdone pinstripes in an instant.

"Betelgeu-MMPH!" Barbara shrieked, before her mouth disappeared. Before he could even open his jaw, a pulling sensation took over his face and neck, and the next thing he knew, the poltergeist had his larynx and tongue flopping uselessly in the palm of his moss coated hand.

"Geez, nice way to thank the guy that saved our asses! Great follow up to that fucking sandworm!"

Barbara's mouthless jaw wiggled in muffled rage, and Adam's speaking equipment waggled in Betelgeuse's hand, both ghosts gesticulating wildly at Juno, who merely pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Enough!" came the raspy grouse as Juno pulled up a chair out of nowhere and sat down. "Set them right, you ass. And you two, don't say his name! He's here with me, so you're safe enough."

Betelgeuse slumped down onto the floor, his elbows perched on his knees as he flicked his hand boredly at the ghostly couple, setting their mouths back into working order with a grumble.

"Juno, what the hell are you doing here? And why the hell did you bring him?" Adam spat, glaring at his case worker. The old ghost sighed. "Look, I know you two are still struggling with the handbook, but there are some things that aren't in there, and unfortunately, that little deal Miss Deetz made with this idiot is one of those. He's within his legal right to try and negotiate the circumstances of their contract."

"They don't have a contract! We stopped the wedding!" Barbara yelled, furious.

"Yeah, I freaking remember," Betelgeuse spat, cutting in and earning a fiercer glare from Juno "Fucking sandworm riding….look, you two ain't the brightest bulbs in the box, I get that, but when someone agrees to marry you, that sort of thing sticks. So now I'm stuck, and so's your little friend."

"Stuck?"

"Yeah, Four Eyes, _stuck_. Involved. Tied up. Ball-and-chained. ENGAGED."

"But-but..." Barbara stammered

"'But' nothing. that little Lydia's my fiancé, which being as she's still living, comes with-YOWCH! What the fuck, woman!?"

Juno, who had been sitting back weaving just enough noose for him to hang himself with, chose that moment to yank it back; or rather, land a rather large, rather sharp machete in his foot.

"Despite the way he's put it, he's correct. They two of them are engaged by Neitherworld law, and since that completes half of the bargain they made, he's justified in trying to appeal for some of his privileges."

"What privileges?" the Maitlands said in horrified unison. "You are not going anywhere near Lydia!" Barbara spat, threatening glare diminished somewhat by the amount of crazy oozing from the poltergeist's smile.

"It ain't like that, Babs. Myself, I like a woman with experience, know what I mean?" Barbara could have sworn she felt something grab her ass, but she could see his arms right in front of her, so she couldn't say anything. That horrible, bug-encrusted grin got wider. "But little chicky's still my intended, so I ain't gonna _not_ talk to her."

"You'd better not hurt her, you bastard."

"Aww, how'd ya know?" Betelgeuse smiled sweetly, making everyone in the room horrendously nauseous. *

"Listen Geuse, just speak your peace so I can toss your sorry ass back in the waiting room until Miss Deetz is dead and buried herself." Juno grumbled.

Betelgeuse threw a glare back at the caseworker worthy of a trophy from Satan himself. Juno knew it wasn't for the threat of the Waiting Room. '_Interesting_.'

"Look, calypso killers," Betelgeuse grumbled, pulling a cigar out of his pocket, "I'm only gonna do this once, so open your damn ears." He grinned at the wary look Adam and Barbara exchanged, enjoying it for a moment before going on. "You called me, and forgot to put me back in all timely like. Lyds called me, again, and made a deal with me to save your sorry, about to get exorcized ecto-hides. Then, you two, after my selfless saving of your asses, proceed to wreck my wedding!"

"She's just a little girl!" Barbara, snapped, as if that made everything okay.

"Zip it, Curly!" The poltergeist growled, a zipper appearing in its rightful place. "Look-I know how it is, you two ain't got any kids and are all alone in the afterlife, and adopt her. You _care_. You could have just fuckin' _asked_ about all that, ya know. But, I've decided to be the bigger man and not hold all that against you. That is, if ya deside to be the nice folks that I know y'are an butt outta my business."

"Are you trying to…did you just…apolo-"

"Hey, Woah, not the A-word. But yeah. You ain't gonna sick any more sandworms on me if I try to talk to Deetzy-doo, are ya?" he shrugged, glaring pointedly at Barbara. Her jaw was still scraping the floor over that horribly worded but disturbingly honest sounding apology.

The Maitlands looked at Juno, who shook her head. "I'm just here to mediate this. It's your decision."

"And if I do sick a sandworm on him again?"

"Then you'd wind up prosecuted in the Neitherworld court system for unlawful involvement in a re-death. The first was self defense…and Judge Meintl thought it was amazingly funny."

"Judgemental?" Adam asked, confused.

"Judge. Mein-tl. Oldest judge and biggest ass in the Neitherworld…had it out for me since the word Boo. Fucker. Probably put your wife in for a damn award." Betelgeuse supplied, grousing.

"We don't have much time, especially after his stupidity. Make your decision on this and be done. We have to get to the Deetz's."

Adam and Barbara put their heads together. "I am never going to trust him, Adam. He's a monster!"

"Barbara, I don't want to see you thrown in whatever kind of prisons they have in the Neitherworld. Lydia's a stronger girl now, she can hold her own."

"I don't want her to _have_ to hold her own."

"There's nothing we can do at this point but be there for her when things hit the fan. That's probably all we'd be able to do anyway."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Barabarra, honey, aall I'me saying is that we've been dead for what? A year? Less? He's been dead for over six hundred, and what little power he's able to use here is stronger than what luck and power we'll ever be able to muster up. We both know you got lucky last time. I doubt we'll lose Lydia over this, especially not with Juno in the middle, but I'm not going to lose you."

"Oh, Adam…I hate this, but you're probably right. I can't stomach this; you make the call."

Adam turned back to the two opposing suits waiting cross-armed in the corner. Juno watched him, hopeful despite her scowl. Betelgeuse just looked bored. Until Adam held out his hand.

"We don't like you and don't trust you, but we're sure Lydia can more than take care of herself. If you have legal rights in this, then so does she, and we're sure Juno will remind her of that if you get back up to your tricks. So we'll forgive you…so long as you toe the line."

A red line appeared on the floor, the poltergeist's feet seemingly magnetically drawn to it. "What the?" he wondered before it disappeared and his balance returned. Shrugging it off, he extended his own hand and grabbed Adam's, shaking it vigorously in he dry, mold-scratchy grip. "Pleasure doin' business with ya," he grinned before cackling insanely. Adam felt a jolt of liquid electricity go up his arm before the ghost let it go, and watched as energy flew around him, swirling around Betelguese before settling into his body as he laughed. Juno glared daggers at him.

"You have no idea what you just did, do you? I never should have trusted the two off you to be vindictive enough to keep him in. Now I have no choice. Move, poltergeist!"

Still cackling, Betelgeuse floated after Juno as she headed to the door she'd drawn. She crossed out the Maitlands address and scribbled the Deetzes' underneath, her handwriting suffering in her anger.

"Hey, by the way, thanks for letting me out again, buddy!" Betelegeus called over his shoulder as he drifted through the door.

Adam and barbara looked at each other as the cigarette smoke and Neitherworld fog cleared, their eyes worried as their minds whirled.

"Adam, what did we just do?"


	3. Chapter 3

_Really_ in the Land of the Living

Lydia lay on her bed, ignoring her homework and playing with her new kitten, Percy. She hated the name Delia'd given him, but it was the only way she'd been able to keep him. Delia was weird when it came to having pets, never having had one herself as a child. Percy was all black, and tiny, and still had that soft, got-tumbled-in-the-dryer look of new kittens, even though he was four months old.

Dad had agreed to let her keep him when she'd found him abandoned at their driveway two months back as sort of a consolation for moving away from the Maitlands. She still hadn't forgiven him for moving, but she understood. Heart and nervous conditions ran in her father's family, and ever since Mom had died he'd been terrified of leaving her alone. She knew he couldn't really take the constant stimulation of having spirits in the house, even though after the whole Beetlejuice mess, when he was able to see them, he'd grown to like the Maitlands. Delia, on the other hand, was at the forefront of "forgetting that regrettable gas leak that made us all a little crazy," which was how she explained everything-just one big chemically induced hallucination. She was growing increasingly pushy, and to appease her, Charles had been pretending to forget the ghostly happenings at the old house, and Lydia, though she hated herself a little every time she said it, had started calling Delia 'mother.'

Sometimes, the only way she knew she wasn't going completely crazy was on the days when she could bike over to Winter River. She'd come home late, all windblown and tired. Delia couldn't really gripe because she was getting good exercise and was out in the sun, so she let it go. Her father worried about traffic sometimes, but he knew Lydia was a good rider. It was after she'd come in and gotten settled that her dad would sneak up to her room and ask her quietly how the 'old owners' were doing. He always listened to what they'd gotten up to, which usually wasn't much, mostly tutoring and some dancing to the oldies, levitation optional.

Lydia looked up from her cat and her musings when she heard a knock on the door. It was her Dad. He poked his head in and asked if it was okay before coming in and sitting on her bed. She'd come up to her room in a huff that day, and stayed up there through dinner.

"Pumpkin, I know something's bothering you. I know I'm not as great in the advice department as your mom was, or the Maitlands, I guess, but you know you can always talk to me, right?" he said as he ruffled her hair. Lydia smiled.

"It's nothing really, Father…just some of the girls at school. You know, the usual teenage stupidity."

"Are they bothering you about the way you dress again?"

"…Yes."

"Honey, I don't understand you sometimes, and the fact that you like such dark, odd things…but that's who you are. I don't want to hear about anyone bullying my Lydia, but I know how kids are. If you ever need anyone to talk to, you can come to me."

"Um…Dad? What if it's…you know…_girl_ stuff?"

Charles pinked about the ears a bit. He knew vaguely what she meant and absolutely that she wouldn't want to talk to Delia about it. He wished she would, but the two just were not the types to get along.

"Well…there's no reason we have to tell your mother _everywhere _we go when we go out on a drive…and it doesn't take nearly as long to get to Winter River by car." Lydia smiled as he waggled his eyebrows and looked around sneakily. She rubbed her hands together and attempted an evil laugh that came out so bad Charles started laughing as well. Percy mewed pitifully and hopped between them, demanding attention as the door creaked open again.

Delia popped in unasked for, an obnoxiously bright grin on her face as she unceremoniously dropped a large plate covered in shiny tin foil on Lydia's bed. "You didn't come to dinner, dear, and you're so thin and pale! You simply _must_ eat to keep up your strength."

Lydia, her face barely concealing the effect the smells of Delia's cooking were having on it, seriously doubted that statement. Delia's suddenly turning into some sort of June Cleaver reject was seriously starting to get annoying.

It was the smell that hit them first, the scent of ozone and stagnant water, cigarette smoke and wet earth that suddenly infiltrated past Lydia's mimosa incense. Percy suddenly jumped into the air yowling like he'd eaten glass and dove under Lydia's bed. Delia followed suite as she turned her head at the smell

"Lydia, you really must stop burning that horrible incense, it smells li-AAAHHH!"

It was only at the sound of Delia's shriek and her overly-quaffed head hitting the floor that Charles and his daughter stopped trying to puzzle out what was wrong with the normally sedate cat to turn and see the green and purple laced fog billowing out of Lydia's vanity mirror and onto the floor. Charles turned white as a sheet and Lydia froze, her hands digging into her bedclothes. The fog twisted and contorted, finally forming two separate shapes, one much smaller than the other one. Stripes began to fade into the larger figure as voices became evident in the room.

"Just thought it'd look good on the books…"

"…no, they will not count an elaborate entrance as a courtship ritual, you idiot. Cut out this nonsense and lets get on with this mess…"

There was a slight 'pop' and suddenly the fog was gone, though the smell of swamp water and Virginia Slims still pervaded the air. In it's place were two spirits, both of whom the Deetzes recognized immediately.

"YOU!" Lydia cried as her eyes latched onto those pinstripes. "NO! No no no no no! Get out of here! Get OUT! Beetlejui-"

"Miss Deetz, wait a moment," Juno said. "And please calm down. I may be dead, but I still have eardrums."

"What is _he_ doing here?" Charles quailed, still pale, "You said this was over with when you came to talk with us right before we moved." He screamed suddenly as the poltergeist in question suddenly appeared seated on the bed between him and Lydia, an arm around either of their shoulders.

"Well, Chuckie, I just thought I'd drop by for a chat with my lovely little bride-to-be, here. How's that sound, Dad?"

Charles and Lydia both went green, and Juno groaned, fending off Delia, who was muttering vaguely about finding the gas main and wringing her hands midair, which were stuck in the case worker's abdomen.

"If you don't knock it off and just do what I'm attempting to facilitate here, I'm adding 43 counts of General Pain in the Assery to your charges!"

Betelgeuse slid out from between the two fluidly and came to stand by his caseworker, looking like someone had stolen his copy of The Exorcist.

"What do you mean what you're facilitating? Juno, what is this?" Lydia asked, her voice small and fear in her eyes. She thought she'd been able to marginalize him, to shrink him down to something still disturbing, but not terrifying in her mind. But now that he was here, back in the same room with her, she remembered just how scared of him she was. It wasn't just the fact of what he was; a ghost she could handle. It was the aura of power that washed off of him in waves. She'd known he was different from Adam and Barbara, but it was easy to forget _how_ different when you weren't around either example every day.

Juno sighed and summoned a chair out of nowhere before sitting down. Betelgeuse seemed perfectly happy to kick back mid air and float aimlessly.

"Miss Deetz, I apologize for our sudden appearance, but _someone_ refused to wait. I believe I explained the situation well enough to you when we last met."

"Yeah, I'm engaged to him for basically the rest of my life! You didn't have to bring him to remind me."

"ENGAGED?" Charles yelled, his voice cracking at the volume. Juno raised an eyebrow and tried to ignore the snickering in the background. "Yes, Mr. Deetz, engaged. I thought your daughter had told you."

"That's right, Chuck, you're stuck with me!" Betelgeuse cackled as he drifted past, casually zapping Charles' tie into a small snake. The blond man shrieked and ripped the thing from his neck. Lydia flew off her perch on the bed and aimed a glancing swing at the poltergeist's face. He actually stopped floating and thudded to the floor in surprise.

"You leave my Dad alone, you asshole!"

"Geuse! Miss Deetz! That will be quite enough of that. Now, if we can get back to the matter at hand"

With a wave of her hand, Juno returned the tie to it's normal form and glared at the ghost on the floor. Lydia found her way back to her seat, handing her father back his tie. Charles looked at it warily.

"First and foremost, Miss Deetz, why did you not inform your parents of the arrangement?" the old case worker asked. Lydia looked at her feet.

"They've been trying to forget everything that happened. Delia just calls it a gas leak at this point. Dad's heart…I didn't want them to have to worry about it anymore."

"Well, as noble as that may have seemed, they had a right to know."

"But I-"

"We'll discuss this at a later date. As it is, I'm here in a more advocatory role."

"Um…what?" Lydia and Charles said in unison. Juno sighed.

"I'm here to make sure he doesn't destroy your house in some stupidity laced attempt at an apology for being the ass he is to your family."

"Hey!" Betelgeuse griped, getting up off the floor finally as he did.

"Well, it's true. Now get on with this before I send you back and arrange for Freud to talk to this poor girl!" Juno snapped, her foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

Betelgeuse gave a long look to the two breathers on the bed, ignoring the one on the floor, and opened his mouth. Lydia spoke up before he had a chance to.

"I don't want to hear it. You nearly kill my Dad, Maxie Dean and his wife, traumatize my step-mother, and almost re-killed Barbara. What on this plane of existence or the next makes you think I'm willing to listen to an apology from you?"

"Ah, c'mon, Lyds! We're engaged! Don't I get a little say in what's probably the rest of my afterlife?"

"After the way you treated all of us? I could care less about your afterlife!"

"Babe's, c'mon, please? It ain't like I forced you or nothing'"

"'_Not like you forced me?' _You freaking _blackmailed_ me!"

"Now hold on a-"

"Yeah, the whole 'I Want Out' speech didn't twist my arm _at all_. Not to mention the fact that you could have told me you meant 'marry my right this damn minute!' I was thirteen, you sicko!"

"Hey! Would you shut up and listen to me for one fucking second?" Betelgeuse yelled, his head spinning at the last word. He stopped it, and after the two conscious Deetzes had stopped screaming, he continued. "Don't you hate it when that happens? Look, Lyds, Babes, remember how I told you I don't have any rules? Well, big shocker here, I lied. I have one rule, and it's NO DAMN KIDS! So don't even try and use that little guilt trip on me. Now, there's still the matter of you breaking the deal…"

"I'm not apologizing for that when you're the one supposed to be apologizing!" Lydia yelled. She looked over at her dad. "One thing Dad taught me was to never go back on your word…but I'm still just a kid. You couldn't honestly have expected a thirteen year old to not be a little freaked out. Not to mention the fact that, you know, I didn't know a damn about you, and you meant _right then_, _and_ the whole you being dead thing. Not exactly a great formula there, Einstein."

Charles seemed to come out of his stupor to glare at the poltergeist after his daughter's spiel. "Lydia's absolutely right. And as much as I hate this deal she made with you, she still made it for noble reasons, and I can't exactly tell her that saving the lives, or afterlives, rather, of her friends is a bad thing. Not to mention the fact that the contract is binding in a world I have no power in. So I leave the decision up to her on this, because that's her choice to make, no matter the outcome. But God help me, if you hurt her, I'll dig up every exorcist I can find and put you down for good."

Betelgeuse gave Charles an appraising look. Dressed in a lumpy brown sweater, chubby, and pale as a sheet, he didn't look like much…except for the absolutely terrifying expression in his eyes. Betelgeuse knew that look, or something similar, and had worn it a few times himself. That was not a look to be messed with or doubted. The poltergeist sighed and looked at Lydia.

"Look, can we just talk about this? Without your Dad and that Van Gogh reject on the floor? I can't even really do anything, because of Attila the Nun back there."

Lydia looked at him for a moment. He looked tired; not bored or looking for trouble tired, just tired. Like being held back for all those months had actually been hard on him. Adam and Barbara had always said the messed up time there messed with them as well…and he'd been there for six months. And that was after getting eaten by that terrible two headed worm thingy. And her dad _had_ made the final decision hers.

"Fine, we'll talk. But you do anything stupid and I'mm sicking Juno and Barbara back on you." The poltergeist nodded and sat with a _flump_ on the bed. "Thanks, Babes."


End file.
